Pinned Up
by GrandeVanillaSkimLatte
Summary: When Sirius takes a collection too far, Hermione decides to take action. SiriusHermione.


**Pinned Up

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**

Hermione stormed down the stairs of Grimmauld Place, making sure her thumping footfalls could be heard in every room. She was beyond livid - she was downright pissed off.

"Hermione please, he can't help himself," Harry was pleading behind her, following as quickly as he could, trying to grab the framed portrait from her right hand.

"He has gone too far this time," she hissed angrily, snatching the portrait closer to her as she cleared the landing, slowing her stomps to silent steps as they passed by the resting Mrs. Black.

"He's just enjoying his freedom, can't you give him that?" Harry tried once more, as they passed by the kitchen door for the stairs that led outside.

"Well he can enjoy his freedom outside of my personal space," she replied, pushing the warped wooden door aside as she stormed in to the neglected backyard that was now only used because Teddy enjoyed the outdoors.

Sirius sat at a wrought iron outdoor setting, its white paint peeling so that it matched the rest of the dilapidated back garden. Teddy Lupin sat squirming and giggling in his lap as Sirius helped open a book in front of him. Hermione curbed her temper long enough to remember that poor Teddy didn't need to be exposed to her rage at the tender age of four and slowed to a gentle walk, approaching the oblivious pair with stealth.

She could no longer hear Harry behind her, the Chosen One having wisely made the decision to stay inside – away from the impending storm between best friend and godfather. She gritted her teeth together as she approached the older man and felt like hexing him from behind. Only Teddy's soft giggles at whatever Sirius was showing him made her stop.

Thinking perhaps she could gently extract the child from his treacherous arms and then hex him, she got close enough to pull Teddy away. That was when she caught Sirius's next words.

"I think she's ticklish," he chuckled quietly.

Hermione frowned and looked over their shoulders, seeing the open picture book that Teddy was currently smearing his hands all over.

"Sirius Black!" she screeched, seeing the replica of the picture in her hand, which she currently dropped to the overgrown grass, hoping it was ruined.

Sirius jumped a mile, and poor Teddy turned to her wide-eyed, his hair turning a darker shade of blue.

"It's not what it looks like," he said hastily, depositing Teddy on the ground, who ran to Harry's waiting arms, used to his Uncle Sirius and Aunt Hermione's fierce arguments.

"Oh, what is it then? You were giving him an art history lesson on Rolph Armstrong?" she asked sweetly, her eyes flashing with deadly intent as she reached in to her robe pocket for her wand. Sirius began to back up, his hands held out in surrender.

"Yes?" he asked slowly.

"No," she answered, "Do you have any idea how highly inappropriate it is to show a four-year-old pin-up girls?" she asked, her eyes wide with incredulity.

Sirius backed up another step as her wand flailed wildly.

"But they're vintage," was his only answer.

"I don't care if they are five hundred years old, I want them gone!" she cried.

"Now you know I can't do that," Sirius said, defending his latest habit of collecting vintage pin-ups. He even had one tattooed down his calf – the scantily clad minx having taken to winking and flashing anyone who was privileged enough to see it.

She pointed her wand at his chest.

"I could deal with the picture in the bathroom, and maybe the two in the library. But what right do you have to put one in my personal study? What right do you have to expose Teddy to sexual themes so early in life?" she cried.

"Well, first," Sirius said, gulping as his back hit the wall of the weather worn garden shed, his body sucking in away from the volatile little witch in front of him. "He bought the book to me. I must have left it on the table."

Hermione glowered.

"And second, technically, this is my house and I have every right to put them where I want." He didn't seem as sure of this response, however, and Hermione's expression grew even darker.

"You agreed when we all moved in here that our personal spaces were just that. _Ours_," she hissed, glancing back at the house, where Harry stood with Teddy hiding in his arms, Remus coming up behind them at the sound of raised voices. She could even see Ron's flaming red hair from one of the top windows.

Taking a deep breath, she decided they didn't need an audience and grabbed his hand, dragging them both out of view and earshot once she cast a hasty charm. She knew nobody would dare bother them. They were all used to her shouting until she went hoarse and Sirius charming his way out of whatever he had done wrong that time.

Sirius seemed to lose a lot of his fear when she put her wand away and turned too look at him with her hands on her hips.

"Aw, come on now, they're just pictures," he cajoled, one side of his mouth quirking up in his trademark smirk.

"They are more than pictures, it's practically porn," she growled.

"What's wrong with a little slap and tickle? We all know the house needed a bit of brightening up," he replied cockily, leaning back against the shed, his tattooed arms across his chest.

"Most people go for a Van Gough, not Vargas."

Sirius's smirk became a grin.

"You seem to know an awful lot about the artists who painted them," he commented.

Hermione felt a deep flush bloom on her cheeks.

"Well, what do you expect, I have to stare at them all day. Of course I became curious as to who painted them."

"No, I think you like them. I think your real problem is they make you uncomfortable."

"How could I like something that makes me uncomfortable?" she scoffed, losing a lot of the wind from her sails and deciding to just pull the whole lot of them down and throw them in the fire while he was asleep.

She would deal with the subsequent argument after.

"I think they make you uncomfortable because they are purely feminine beings, and you think you're not. They are everything you wish you could be, but are afraid to try," he said slowly, smiling as she blushed even deeper.

"I don't know where you come up with this stuff," she replied haughtily.

"It's obvious darling, you're gagging for it," he replied smoothly, chuckling when she spluttered with indignation.

"How-how dare you!"

"It's true."

"Is _not_."

"Sure."

"Oh, and you're not desperate, plastering the walls of our home with harlots and whores?" she asked primly, not wanting to admit how on the mark he actually was.

Sirius blinked down at her, his humor fading as he peeled away from the wall.

"I could have any woman I want," he said softly.

"Oh that's rich," she huffed, crossing her arms and staring at him with challenge.

"I could even have you, if I wanted to," he said even quieter, taking a step toward her.

Hermione resisted the urge to back away from his intense stare.

"Don't even try it," she stated, feeling her heart flutter at the look he gave her. The same look that had women's panties flying from their bodies and under his bed in seconds.

"Try what?" he asked, circling around her, his eyes sweeping up and down her body.

"You know what, and it isn't going to work on me," she replied, her voice losing some of its bravado as he circled her again, brushing so close it was her turn to press against the wall, facing him.

"Isn't it?" he asked gently, taking a step so that he was an inch from her body, his frame so much taller than hers in such close proximity.

"No," she whispered a second before his head descended and his lips crashed in to hers.

She struggled for a moment, pushing against his chest as she resisted the onslaught of sensations that seem to assault her at such a simple contact. Sirius pressed every hard muscle in to her soft curves, her back pressing hard into the ageing wood behind her.

His tongue darted out to sweep along her lips and she practically swooned. Never had she felt anything so amazing in her life.

Sirius seemed to sense this minor change, repeating the action until Hermione stopped pushing and started pulling him toward her. She moaned when his lips sank down further in to hers, his tongue sweeping the inside of her mouth, tracing her teeth and gums, playing an age-old game of give and take.

She had to admit, he was a fabulous kisser. She clutched at his unbound hair, tugging the strands impatiently as his hand skimmed down her front, surprising her when it dipped beneath her waist band of her skirt to cup her mons. She cried out and pulled away.

"I can feel you," he whispered harshly against her neck before she could really shove him away. "So hot, already so wet. You want me."

"No," she said with a shake of her head, another small moan betraying her when he suckled on her pulse point.

"Yes," he hissed in return, kissing a path down to her breasts, his fingers flexing against her teasingly, causing her to buckle. "You want me so bad you'll let me take you here," he breathed, using his other hand to flick open her blouse, finding her breasts encased in navy blue silk, her pebbled nipples peeking at him through the fabric.

Hermione could only whimper as his lips pulled one pink bud into his mouth, a long digit entering her at the same time. It was almost too much too bear.

Sirius worshiped the quivering witch in his arms – employing every debauched skill he had learned over the years to pleasure her. She responded by tugging and pulling at his hair, her verbal responses so loud he knew that if he ever gained this opportunity again he would have to remember to ward wherever they were. He felt his cock twitch in response to that thought, and prayed that she wouldn't come to her senses and stop what was happening between them now.

Hermione had become a mindless, shuddering pile of goo beneath his ardent ministrations, her restless hands tugging at him until he raised his head to kiss her once more. This kiss was gentler than the first, his mouth making love to hers in an imitation of what was surely to come.

Sirius removed his hand from her throbbing core, gripping the flowing fabric about her legs and tugging it up around her waist. He gave a sharp tug to the flimsy fabric she called underwear and felt her shiver against him when the cool air touched her intimately. He hissed when he felt her hands shift down his shirt, coming to his belt to remove it with amazing dexterity. Next went his fly and she was soon pushing the fabric around his knees impatiently.

He chuckled against her lips, gripping the backs of her thighs to lift her around his waist, using the wall as leverage. Her small hand gripped his aching arousal and he pulsed in her hand happily, hissing with need against her again.

"Please," she whispered, lining him up with her dripping core, pulling back to look in to his eyes with lust shining in her own. "I need you," she admitted.

Sirius needed no further prompting as he plunged to the hilt with one thrust. Her head tilted back and her eyes fell close, and he let his head fall to her neck as he held still and let her adjust to him.

"Oh my God," he gasped, pulling back a moment later to plunge back into her. Repeating the action again and again, increasing his pace and strength with each buckling thrust.

Hermione could only cry out helplessly, his fabulous body worshiping hers as she clung to his shoulders and kissed his lips with bruising force. He returned her ardor, pumping his body in and out with only one true intention in mind.

Hermione was the first to come, her back arching as her mouth dropped open in a silent O. Sirius watched her come apart in his arms, gasping as her clutching sleeve milked his own orgasm from him. He buried his head in her curls as he strained and came inside of her, crying out loudly.

Gasping for breath, he dropped her thighs, letting her fall to the ground.

"Wow," she gasped, staring at him as if she had never seen him before.

"Yeah," he agreed before taking the step back toward her and kissing her passionately again.

"I knew you were hot when you were angry. But Granger, you far surpass hot when you let a bloke in," he said and she flushed at the odd compliment.

"I don't usually, I mean I am not easy or..." she stuttered, suddenly feeling rather awkward at letting go, especially with him.

"I didn't say you were," he murmured huskily, drawing him in to his arms gently.

Hermione hugged him back and wondered what was supposed to happen now.

"Sirius...what are we?" she asked quietly against his chest.

"Two people who should have stopped arguing and started snogging a long time ago."

"Oh."

"You can have me, if you want," he said softly a minute later as she pulled back to readjust her blouse.

"I can...what?" she asked, baffled, her senses coming back to her.

"I told you before I can have anyone I want. Well, right now I want you and you can have me too," he replied, tucking her hair behind her ear.

Hermione titled her head and grinned at him.

"If I sleep with you again, will you get rid of the paintings?" she asked sweetly.

"I was getting rid of them anyway," he replied, gripping her hand and tugging her back toward the house.

"What?" she cried, coming to a halt.

"I only put them up to annoy you. You're so cute when you're angry," he grinned.

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_Thanks for Reading!_


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